Carrot Cake Murder Part 25

"That's what happened. How did you know that? Say...you weren't there, were you?"

"No, but Emmy was. And Gus was. What happened when Emmy saw Gus?"

"She said h.e.l.lo. Emmy was always polite. And then she gave Marge's mother the cookies. Right after that, she went out to the car to come home, but it wouldn't start. And that's when Marge's mother told Gus to take their car and give Emmy a ride home."

This time Hannah had even more trouble stifling a groan. From what she'd learned about Gus and the women he fancied, this couldn't be a good thing.

Jack took a sip of his coffee, and it was clear to Hannah that he didn't want to go on. But she needed to know, and perhaps he needed to tell the story to someone who'd promised never to repeat it. "What happened when Gus took Emmy home?"

"He didn't take her home." Jack's eyebrows met and knit in an angry line.

"Will you tell me? I promise you I won't repeat it. You can trust me, Jack."

"I know. Everybody says that. I didn't know anything, my dear. I was completely in the dark. Emmy didn't tell me about it until I got into that big fight on the night Gus left Lake Eden for good."

"Tell me what Emmy told you." Hannah reached out and took Jack's hand.

"She said Gus got fresh with her and she slapped him and walked over four miles home. Do you know why she didn't tell me about it?"

"She didn't want to worry you?" Hannah guessed.

"No, she didn't want me to kill Gus and go to jail for the rest of my life. She said she needed me and she loved me. And since nothing really happened, she didn't want to tell me about it." Jack stopped talking and blinked back tears. And after a moment, he seemed ready to go on. "Say...do you think that's what'll happen? "

"What do you mean?"

"I could have killed him. I was out there walking. Mac saw me from their cottage."

Hannah's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"

"Mac told me. He didn't know what to do about it. He said he didn't tell the cops, but he had to tell me."

Hannah was caught off guard. Mac hadn't mentioned anything about telling Jack. She regrouped quickly and asked her own question.

"Do you remember going out for a walk after the dance?"

Jack shook his head. "Marge took her sleeping pill, and we went to bed, the same as we do when we're at home. But I don't sleep very well if it's a different bed. I could have gone out for a walk. That's what I do when I can't sleep."

"You really don't remember walking that night?"

Jack shut his eyes and bowed his head. He kept that position for a long moment and then he raised his head and looked her straight in the eyes. "No, I don't remember," he said. "But there's no reason Mac would say it if I didn't. Will I go to jail if I killed Gus?"

"You didn't kill anybody," Hannah said, purely on instinct. And then, after giving it thoughtful consideration she confirmed it. "I know you didn't."

Jack looked grateful, but dubious. "I hope you're right, my dear. Anyway, I didn't know anything about this Gus getting fresh business until he threatened to tell lies about Emmy."

Hannah felt something niggling in her memory. It was something she heard, and Gus was there. Jack was there, too. It was something from the night of the dance.

"He said if I didn't give him our savings, he'd tell everybody in town that Emmy had...Emmy had...I can't say it."

"Been unfaithful to you that afternoon?" Hannah guessed, and suddenly she remembered part of the conversation she'd heard in the booth between Jack and Gus.

"Yes! But that wasn't the worst. The worst was...was...I'm sorry. I forget."

Hannah almost gasped as the section of dialogue between Jack and Gus came back to her in its entirety. Gus had said, I met another pretty girl today, Jack's oldest daughter, Iris. And then he'd turned to Jack and said, She doesn't look at all like you, so I guess she must take after her mother.

"What is it?" Jack asked, looking confused.

"I just figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"What your fight with Gus was about. Did Gus claim Iris was his baby?"

Jack's eyes widened, and he clenched his hands into fists. "Yes! That's exactly what he said! I knew he was lying, and I told him so, but he just laughed. And then he said that if I didn't give him our savings, he'd tell everyone in town!"

"So you punched him?"

"You bet I did! n.o.body can lie about Emmy like that! Emmy's my wife! I hit him, and I hit him, and I hit him, and the next thing I remember is waking up in the clinic. Doc was st.i.tching up the cut on my face so I wouldn't scare Emmy."

"And Tim was born that night," Hannah said, hoping to bring him back to a more pleasant memory.

"That's right." Jack started to smile. "I was right there. I held her hand until Doc told me to go outside and walk around. And when I came back, there he was! My son, Timmy!"

Hannah knew she should try to bring Jack back to the present. Reliving the memories of his fight with Gus had been painful for him, and it was time to move on. "Timmy's here, you know."

"Timmy's here?" Jack looked disoriented for a moment and then he smiled. "I know that. He came with his wife and my three granddaughters. They're in that big house thing...what's it called?"

"A motor home?"

"That's right. Timmy and his family are in that big motor home parked down by the picnic grounds. He drove it all the way from Chicago for our reunion."

"Actually...they're not in the motor home right now. Timmy and his family are at the pancake breakfast with Iris and Marge, and everybody else. Lisa's probably back by now, too. Would you like me to walk you down there?"

"Good idea. I'll join them for breakfast. I hope I didn't eat too many of these cookies and spoil my appet.i.te. What did you call them again?"

"Red Velvet Cookies."

"That's it. Just like the ones Emmy used to bake."

Hannah got up and pushed in her chair. What she'd known all along was confirmed. The only way to clear Jack was to catch the real killer. She motioned for Jack to join her, and when he did, she took his arm.

"Say..." Jack said. "Did Emmy give you the recipe?"

Hannah smiled. "Emmy gave me the recipe," she replied. And, in a manner of speaking, she had.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

"Good pancakes!" Hannah declared, forking up another bite. "What's the recipe, Patsy?"

"It's just the basic recipe you can find in almost any cookbook. There's nothing special about it."

"But they taste a lot better than that."

"It's because we age the batter," Marge explained. "We mix it up the day before and keep it in a covered bowl in the refrigerator overnight. Then all the flavors blend together, and all you have to do is give it a stir the next morning."

"Look at the one I made, Aunt Hannah," Tracey, Hannah's five-year-old niece, pointed to the pancake sitting on a square of wax paper next to her breakfast plate. "Aunt Patsy helped me make it."

Patsy turned to Andrea. "I told her it was all right to call me Aunt Patsy," she explained. "I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all. Tracey has lots of aunts and uncles that aren't really family members."

"They're pretend aunts and uncles," Tracey told Patsy. "Aunt Hannah is real, because Mom and Aunt Hannah are sisters. And Aunt Mich.e.l.le's real, too. I don't have any real uncles, but I pretend with Uncle Norman and Uncle Mike and Uncle Herb."

Since Patsy looked thoroughly confused, Hannah stepped in to change the subject. "That's an interesting pancake, Tracey. Does it taste as good as it looks?"

"I think so. It's from the same bowl as the one I'm eating, so it should be the same."

"And the one you're eating is good?" Andrea prompted her.

"Really, really good. It's the best pancake I ever had. Maybe, if I'm not too full, I'll have one more, but not this one." Tracey pointed to the pancake she'd fried.

"You're not going to eat your own pancake?" Mich.e.l.le asked her.

Tracey shook her head so hard her blond ponytail bounced from side to side. "I have to save it, because it's the first pancake I ever made."

"But food spoils after a while," Hannah reminded her. "You won't be able to keep it forever."

"Yes, I will. Aunt Lisa figured it out for me. She's going to take my pancake home and dry it in her..." Tracey stopped and glanced across the table at Lisa. "Would you tell me the name of that machine again, Aunt Lisa?"

"It's a dehydrator. It removes the moisture from fruit and vegetables so that you can store them longer."

"You're going to try to dry Tracey's pancake?" Mich.e.l.le looked amused.

"Why not?" Lisa gave a little laugh. "And once I dry it, I'm going to sh.e.l.lac it so it won't fall apart."

Herb looked dubious. "But is that going to work?"

"It worked with the cookie ornaments I made for our Christmas tree down at The Cookie Jar. Isn't that right, Hannah?"

"Right. We used those ornaments last year, too, and they held up beautifully." Hannah winked at Lisa. "Of course Norman had to work overtime fixing all the teeth our customers broke trying to get a free cookie from the Christmas tree."

Tracey's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked.

"No, I was just kidding. But it could have happened. Those are real cookies under that sh.e.l.lac."

"And mine's a real pancake," Tracey said, turning to smile at Lisa. "Aunt Lisa's never dried a pancake before. My pancake will be the very first one."

"If anyone can do it, Lisa can," Jack said, leaning over to give Tracey a hug. "What are you going to do with your fine-looking pancake when it's dried?"

"I think I'll hang it on the wall in my room, so I can remember how much fun I had today."

"That's a good idea, but I think you need a fallback position."

"What's a fallback position, Uncle Jack?" Tracey asked him.

"How about calling me Grandpa Jack? I'm a little too old to be your uncle."

"Okay," Tracey gave him a smile. "What's a fallback position 'Grandpa Jack'?"

"It's what you do when the first thing you try doesn't work. Do you see that dentist with the camera around here anywhere?"

"He's not here," Hannah spoke up. "Norman had to go out of town, and he won't be back until tomorrow morning."

"Too bad. He could have helped us out. Does anybody else have a camera?"

Lisa gestured toward her husband. "Herb has a digital, Dad. Do you want him to take a picture for you?"

"Not for me, for..." Jack reached out and patted Tracey's shoulder. "...for my dear, here."

"Tracey," Tracey provided her name before anyone else could do it. "But you can call me my dear. I like it, and n.o.body else calls me that."

"I'm glad you like it, because I'll probably forget your name again." Jack laughed at himself, and everyone else joined in. It was a good moment, and Hannah hoped that he'd forgotten the conversation they'd had and the painful incident he'd remembered.

"So Herb..." Jack looked over at him. "Will you take a picture of the...the..."

Tracey leaned close and whispered something in Jack's ear.

"Right. Will you take a picture of the pancake?" Jack finished his question. "That way Tracey can have the picture framed if the pancake doesn't turn out right."

"I'll do that," Herb promised. "Good idea, Jack."

"Are you through with your breakfast, Grandpa Jack?" Tracey asked him.

"I'm through. How about you?"

"I'm through, too. I wanted another pancake, but I'm too full. Do you want to go to the store for dessert?"

"Did you say dessert?" Jack asked, laughing when Tracey nodded. "People don't usually have dessert after breakfast."

"But there's no rule that says you can't," Tracey said, and then she looked a little uncertain. "Is there?"